Die Die My Darling
by WeirdVision
Summary: Obsession taken to the furtherst end.


_Characters: Boss (author), Santee (Joshua Tree/Army of One), Demetrius (A Midsummer Night's Dream), Jack (Pilgrim/Inferno), Pete Davis (Unlawful Entry)_

**Die, Die My Darling **

I was on my knees on the floor in the middle of the living room. I was breathing heavily and shaking all over but not because I was performing any type of pleasant activity although there was a man sitting right behind me. My skirt was ripped up to the hip and the blouse was torn at the shoulder. And when I think that my clothes used to look so elegant not more than an hour earlier... it had taken them only half an hour to get them all soaked in various types of blood. No, it wasn't my blood, I had several bruises but none of my blood had been spilled yet. Still it hurt the same.

The cold metal of the gun pointed at my head was a constant reminder of where I was and what was going on. Without it I would have probably long passed out, like that I didn't even dare to faint. I have this bad habit of getting myself into more or less serious troubles but I don't remember ever getting so bad. This time it was really bad, I didn't see any way out. And of course it wasn't my fault to begin with, it was never my fault, never.

That wasn't my guys' version of the story if anyone had bothered to ask them, but there was no one left to be asked apparently, no one left to save me unless the last ordered clone was about to fall off the sky, which I knew was a hopeless wish since Max hadn't started baking yet.

Maybe having clones wasn't such a good idea, especially psychotic clones. Not all mistresses knew how to handle them or look for the signs showing that something was wrong, and some of them were just impossible to handle. There was no cure for that, it was something built within them, something they had been born with and that it was meant to go off when least expected. Luckily the deficient clone rate was very low otherwise the people in the business would have had to change their profession. It wasn't a real danger according to them, I just happened to run into one of those lost cases that made the exception.

It all began by the time I had ordered my Ray Liotta clone. With Santee and Demetrius changing the order behind my back I had ended up with a different clone from the one I had expected, one that I wasn't sure I really wanted but I had accepted him nevertheless. Further more, Jack was going through an amnesia phase, which was making it even more difficult to relate to him or even get to him considering that he wasn't quiet sure how to do that.

In this situation I had thought that getting in touch with a similar clone and trying to understand him, assuming that he would be willing to talk about his experience, was probably a good way to help improve things, or at least make them move one way or the other.

I couldn't find any Jack in the clone community, apparently Ray characters weren't that popular, but there was a Pete Davis from Unlawful Entry, the movie where he becomes so obsesses with Madeleine Stowe's character that he doesn't let go until he gets himself killed by the husband played by Kurt Russell. It was the type of thriller watched only when there was nothing else good on TV. I hadn't watched it in years, although I used to watch a lot of crap those days when my guys weren't keeping me busy if you know what I mean. I should have watched it again.

Pete was one of the characters who I had to choose from when I had ordered my Liotta clone and I had thought about him more than once. Ray's performance was one worth to be remembered, the only good thing from the movie that followed the classic pattern of a thriller getting all predictable in the end. If I had to be honest, he was better in Unlawful Entry than in either Pilgrim or Heartbreakers. He was one of the few actors who could make me like a bad guy, and I mean really like him. But I had a strong feeling against the characters who die in the end, and that plus the bad guy attitude, bad guys could be fun but it takes way too much energy to handle them in real life, had been a major factor in making my decision. So he hadn't been my choice, and my guys had had the inspiration to stay away from him when they had made theirs.

It had started all innocently, a few "hellos" over the web cam, some polite smiles, then a joke and exchanging a cooking recipe eventually since it was a notorious fact that I couldn't cook. When he had offered to show me how to prepare the lasagna that's when I backed off. It was on thing to talk to him from a safe distance, but to invite him over? My guys wouldn't have liked it. Beside the fact that he was a man, obviously, he was also a clone and they didn't deal well with their condition of being a clone. Therefor they didn't socialize much with other clones from the area, they preferred real people, if they did it at all.

Then things got settled between Jack and I very nicely soon after the May Day trip and I saw no need to continue my friendship with Pete. I liked him, but there was something about him that kind of freaked me out, although he had given me no reason to feel that way. Still, Pete had never been a real issue and the guys didn't even complain about him like they used to do with Martin and MadMax, the only other two clones who had ever visited our home. Well, there was also Tim but it would have been way beneath them to be jealous on him. So I didn't see it coming. I was totally unprepared for it when it happened.

The smell of cooked onions and garlic and other vegetable coming from the kitchen at my arriving home from work that day was a nice surprise. For a moment I thought Santee and Demetrius had managed to convince Jack to take some cooking classes. I walked to the kitchen to, no, not laugh, but congratulate the chief, and I stopped in the doorway watching the back of the man juggling with pots and pans while whistling a joyful tune.

"You're home early..." he said turning to me.

I stared at the younger version of Jack and it took me a moment to realize that it wasn't him.

"Hi... Pete." I said giving him a confused smile. "What are you doing here... in my kitchen?"

"I came to show you how to prepare a delicious lasagna... like I told you." he grinned returning to cutting the vegetables.

"Wow... thanks..." I mumbled stunned "...but that won't be enough for all four of us." I noticed.

"Dinner is just for you and I. There's no one else home." he announced me without looking back.

"How did you get in then?" I asked. "Where is everyone?"

"Demetrius let me in before leaving and I didn't see any of the other guys." he shrugged.

"Aha... I see..." I muttered. Demetrius showing so little courtesy? It didn't sound like him. Well, maybe it was because he didn't like Pete. Still, leaving a stranger alone in our home... hmm. "Well, since you started without me I'll let you finish and go upstairs to change." I smiled nicely at him and he grinned back.

"OK, I'll give you all the details concerning the preparation while we're eating." he nodded.

I left him there dealing with the hot oven and went to my room. The house was quiet, maybe too quiet. I had gotten used to have at least one of the guys always around, it was like a pact they had to never leave me completely alone, and now it felt weird not to feel their presence somewhere inside the house. I had spent an entire summer all alone in the house, just me and the cat, and I had never felt scared or unsafe, but all of the sudden it didn't feel right.

I hurried to change into some old comfortable jeans and a T-shirt, the first that I got my hands on, and without giving too much thought to the way I looked I went back downstairs. Pete was there to cook, it wasn't a date, so why bother? He didn't seem to agree with me though.

"OK, I'm ready to get my hands dirty." I told him going back into the kitchen. "What can I do to help?"

He gave me a long look and shook his head.

"You're cooking for them all the time. Can't you just enjoy it for once?" he narrowed his eyes at me.

"I thought you wanted to teach me how to make a good lasagna." I replied.

"Later." he said wiping his hands on a towel and hanged it on his shoulder. "Now go make yourself pretty and let the master do his job." he motioned me out through the door.

"OK..." I chuckled.

So he didn't find me pretty enough the way I was? Did I need more special care according to him? I stopped on my way to frown. Not that it matter since his opinion wasn't important enough to me, but maybe an extra look into the mirror wouldn't have hurt. First impulse was to stop by the bathroom to check my appearance and make the necessary adjustments with the help of the small amount of cosmetics I was keeping downstairs, but since I was going to change my clothes too going upstairs where I had everything I needed and some was a more reasonable choice.

I took my time to make myself look presentable. If that was an unusual invitation to dinner then there was no need for me to hurry. Let him do all the hard work! I hadn't asked for it so he had no right to complain. The blouse and skirt I had chosen were going to be at Pete's liking, I knew men, they always fell for tight tops and short skirts, showing some legs was the best method to get their attention focused on minor details and distract them from anything else. It even worked with my guys most of the times.

The hair was left down just because I didn't feel like working on an elaborated arrangement which would had required using all sort of junks, also known as hair products, to keep it the way it was supposed to stay. Too much work for something that wasn't even a date. I compensated with the make up though, only lipstick, eye shadow and eye liner because that was all I ever wore, but lots of it. A few drops of perfume in the right places and... and I was definitely trying too hard. That was what the mirror was telling me. If the guys had entered upon us it would have ended with if not broken bones then broken furniture for sure and possibly another bedroom strike from Santee's part. I sighed and toned down the make up a little, and only after that I climbed down the stairs for the second time.

The cat who was trying to open the bathroom door downstairs stopped to stare at me silently asking for help. Being a very stubborn and talkative animal she was usually meowing insistently when she wanted something and she didn't shut up until she was having it her way. No sound was coming out of her mouth though, she was just sticking her claws into the wooden door trying to open it by herself and looking at me form time to time to see if I was finally 'getting' it.

The strange part in all that was the fact that she had a strong aversion towards bathrooms and she had never entered one since one particular incident that had ended with deep scratches from her and a solemn promise that I would never try to give the cat a bath again from me. And now she wanted to enter the room that was associated with hell to her. I shrugged and cracked the door open so she could get in. The sight I witnessed inside made me wish I hadn't opened it.

After the first shock caused by the horror my eyes were seeing I looked around to make sure I was alone and walked into the bathroom silently closing the door behind me, only to fall on my knees on the cold floor near Demetrius who was laying on his back with a large open wound in his chest. He had lost a lot of blood, his shirt had become red and there was a small blood pool forming underneath him. He was so pale that I was convinced he was dead but then I looked for his pulse and although it was weak his heart was still beating.

That was the only thing that make me keep my sanity, the hope that if I was playing my cards right I could save him. The thought of him being dead, and mostly because of me, was terrifying me. It couldn't be, I needed to do something, and if the idea of fainting was very appealing I couldn't allow myself to show such weakness. I needed to save Demetrius first, and in order to do that I needed to be cleaver and survive. That wasn't an accident, I could see clearly that it was a gunshot. Damn you, Pete! Why did he have to act exactly like in his movie? I could see a pattern now.

I grabbed a towel and pressed it upon Demetrius' wound to stop the bleeding. It helped a little but once I removed my hand the blood started to pour out again. That wasn't working. He was passed out and couldn't help it. I needed to put something on to increase the pressure. The first thing my eyes landed on was the cat. She was used to sleep on Santee's chest when she was in a good mood. I put on him another towel and placed her on top.

"Stay here!" I ordered her under my breath. "If you move the next bath you'll take would be in the washer machine." I warned her. She seemed to understand that.

I washed my hands and straightened my clothes, even put on a thick layer of foundation because I was looking too pale, and with a deep breath I prepared to walk out and face the enemy. God help me, by the nightfall we were gonna all either be dead or he was going to be taken out of the equation one way or the other, preferably the last one.

What to do next? Calling the police or any kind of help was a reasonable thing to do, but how to do it? If Pete was any good at his job it was fair to assume the main phone line had been already disconnected. I went to the living room but my purse and laptop had mysteriously disappeared from where I had left them. There was also the computer... I ran to the office to the main computer system. It was faster and always on.

"Pete's here. Send police & ambulance. NOW!" I typed quickly and sent the message to all the contacts from the address book.

If only one of the people who knew where I lived read the message in time... was that too much to ask? Apparently yes. None of those messages was about to go through, the wire was still hooked to the computer but the connection to the Internet was down.

While raising my eyes from the screen I saw the red top of the Ferrari outside in the back yard. I hadn't heard the car's engine so it must have been there since before I had returned home. Santee was never leaving without his car. Was he home? Where was he then? The image of Demetrius laying on the bathroom floor flashed briefly in front of my eyes. Oh, no...

I was no hero, I had watched plenty of action movies to have enough of excitement, but this was real blood we were dealing with, no ketch up. Besides that my life was pretty dull at least until the clones had started to pop up like popcorns into my life. I didn't like violence, I didn't know how to handle it, I didn't want to handle it. Mommy where are you? Make the bad man go away...

"Stupid ISP, it's the fourth time it happens in two days... someone will get his ass kicked for this." I grumbled pretending I didn't hear Pete entering the room. "Where is the damn phone!"

"Hey, relax." Pete said moving closer. "Working hours are over."

"Yeah, I know... I was waiting for a message from work to know if we got the contract or not..." I started to feed him lies "...and it doesn't work." I pouted. "I'm gonna change the provider one of these days, this is what I'll do." I muttered looking around. "Where did the guys hide the phone?"

"Leave it, dinned is getting cold." he placed his hands on my shoulders and motioned me to the door.

I had no reason to stay there and it was better to keep on moving, to keep him occupied.

"You know what? You're right." I smiled and let him lead me out of the office.

I was trying not to shake as his hand was resting on me.

"You are so tensed." he noticed.

"It's been an exhausting day, lots of arguments at work, open confrontation with the boss, things didn't work well at all..." I shrugged with a sigh.

My boss was one of the nicest people I knew, but who cared? I had to say something. Actually the day had been rather good up until I had arrived home. The nightmare was just beginning.

"So what's the name of this fearful boss?" he asked casually.

If Jack had blown up a place for messing my hair, then what could Pete do in case he got away?

"Nah, his name it's not worth being mentioned." I made a grimace. "Let's eat, I'm starving! Do you prepared just lasagna or do we also have some dessert?" I grinned playfully.

"Oh, there will be dessert..." he promised.

The look in his eyes said it all. He had some plans for dessert and I didn't dare to imagine what they were.

"Great!" I found the strength to smile. "Let me help you set the table then." I offered.

Bring the silvery and the China dishes, the best for the beast.

"If you break any of these glasses I'll have to kill you!" I joked showing him the wine crystal glasses.

I thought he would appreciate some dark humor and he did.

"You won't have to." he smirked.

I really hoped he was right. I hoped someone else would do it for me. I hated him.

While bringing everything needed to the table I discreetly looked around the place trying to discover where he had hidden my purse. If I somehow managed to get out of the house, I still couldn't escape without my car keys. I knew nothing about starting the engine without them, I should have taken some lessons from my guys, but like this all the chances were against me. It was a quiet area, with little circulation and neighbors placed far away, so he would have caught me and dragged me back before I could get too far.

"Should I put some music on?" I asked.

"Sure... if you want..." he nodded.

I chose a CD from the pile and turned the stereo on. Not too romantic, not too catchy, just some old regular music. By the third song I remembered that I didn't like it. That was the last of my concerns at the moment.

"So... how's your Mistress doing?" I asked when we sat at the table.

"Fine... she's busy with the new clone." he said filling my plate.

"Oh... thanks."

So this is what the trauma of a new clone arriving could cause to the old ones. It was one thing worth remembering. I swore to God that if I got out alive I would never get another clone. The four I had already were beginning to be enough, if they survived. And then four it's a round number, five with me, perfect to fill in a five seats car. I had to be practical, assuming that there would be a future for any of us.

"Well, good for her. This will give you more time for... other activities." I grinned. "But you didn't come here to talk about her, of course. So tell me about you." I invited him.

It was hard to make him start talking, it was like pulling words out of his mouth in the beginning. He wasn't focussing on himself and his objective like most of the obsessed people do, he was controlling the whole situation acting almost naturally. He was smart, he had to be since he had used to be a cop, and I had to admit that. Unfortunately it was only making my situation more complicated because I had to be smarter than him. And I got to prove that I was when it was time for the wine to be served.

"Let me do that." I purred taking the bottle from his hand.

I had flirted with him all the way through dinner, while forcing myself to eat and not throw up everything back in the plate, so he just laid back in his chair and smiled when I leaned over his shoulder to pour the wine. If I had paid attention to what I was doing maybe it shouldn't have happened and I would have lost a great opportunity but I was looking into his eyes and of course the wine flooded over and I eventually spilled the glass. The wine spread all over the table and ran down his clothes.

"Oh, my... how clumsy of me." I said desolated. "I'm so sorry! Let me help you with this. Let's go to the bathroom and clean this up."

"No, no, no! I can do it myself." he hurried to stop me jumping up on his feet.

"Are you sure?" I whined.

"Yes!" he assured me.

Sure, bathroom was forbidden territory, he didn't want me go anywhere near it. But I already knew what was in there.

"OK..." I sighed. "I'll get some white wine, it's good for removing the stains."

"Yeah, you do that." he nodded with a short hesitation.

I waited to hear the bathroom door closing, if the cat hadn't dragged the towels off Demetrius and started eating out of him I was dead meat. I didn't wait for the conclusion, a roar or a gunshot would have been enough of a signal. I ran downstairs to the basement.

I needed a weapon, one powerful enough to hurt Pete more than a pan or an empty bottle. I hated the basement, it freaked me out, but I had to go down there because that was the only place where I could find one. Santee had a shotgun, he usually kept it in the trunk of his car, and since I didn't have the key to open it, it was as if it didn't even existed. Jack also had a gun, it never left his sight, sometimes I thought it was an extension of himself. If I got a sight of that gun I could expect to find Jack near by too. At the moment I was almost happy he wasn't there, hopefully he was somewhere safe.

So this only left Demetrius and his two hundreds years old pistol, but at least that one I had it. I had confiscated the pistol from Demetrius after his first fight with Santee and no matter how much he had begged me to give it back I had never returned it to him. I had hid it in the basement instead.

I took a deep breath and ventured myself on the narrow steps down into the darkness. It had to be there on a shelf in a box behind the pickle jars. I stumbled looking for the switch that I remembered being somewhere at the right and I heard a muffled noise coming from close. Rats! Oh, I hated rats. I didn't fear them but I did hate them. Finally I found the switch and turned the light on.

"Oh, my..." I cried out covering my mouth with my hand.

The sight was worse than a nightmare... and a little weird also. Santee was there with his back propped against the wall, bent knees, chin down on his chest... hanging there. No, he was really hanging! The edge of a thick metal bar was sticking out of the right upper part of his chest. He was stuck there, pinned to the wall like a butterfly with a needle.

I just couldn't think clear for a moment and I ran to him to hug him. I held him tight to convince myself that he was still alive, ignoring the blood that was beginning to soak my blouse. The idea of losing him was unbearable.

He moaned again. I leaned back a little so I could look at him. He was almost passed out. By the way he was rolling his eyes unable to lift his head more than a few centimeters I suspected that it wasn't just the pain, blood loss and exhaustion, he had been drugged. There was no way Pete could have done that to him in fair fight. If Santee had been in his regular state, he could have pulled himself out of there with ease. All alone I wasn't able to do anything to help him, he was too big and heavy and uncooperating.

"Hang on in there, baby... I'll save you." I whispered running a hand on the side of his covered in sweat face. "What's that? What did you say?" I asked and approached my ear to his lips.

"Keys..." he mumbled staring down at his pants.

I looked through his pockets and found the keys to the Ferrari.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "I'm gonna get the shotgun and blast a hole through the bastard's ass." I grumbled glaring up at the door.

"No... go... get... help." Santee made a desperate effort to speak.

"I will." I promised.

I took another look around to make sure there wasn't anything I could do and went back to the stairs forgetting all about the reason that had brought me down there. I was going to regret that I didn't take the pistol later, but right then I could only think about getting to the car and going as far as possible while I still could.

I opened the door and looked along the corridor. It was empty. The bathroom door was closed, Pete could still be in there or not, there was no way to know it for sure without checking and I didn't care that much for that option. I crossed the hall making no sound at all and I headed to the back door. I had to be careful there, that door was making an annoying squeezing noise each time it was used. I opened it very slowly, it felt like hours had passed until there was a large enough space for me to pass through.

The car was just a few meters away, the escape seemed to be so close. I ran to it and with shaking hands I tried to unlock the door. I even managed to open it and I was getting in when a hand grabbed me by the back of my blouse and pulled me back.

We had developed an advanced wrestling system with the guys, all for fun, and they knew how to control their strength not to hurt me, but this was completely different. It was no joke.

"Running to the store to get the wine?" Pete hissed in my ear.

I struggled to set myself free but he was holding me with both hands and obviously he could still remember his training in the force since I could barely move. But I could bite. I stick my teeth in his arm squeezing hard until I felt the taste of blood into my mouth. He cursed and threw me off to the ground. The thick layer of grass made the fall a bit less painful but I still felt like a potato sack. I rolled on a side ready to jump up. He put his foot on my back pressing hard between my shoulders and forced me lay on my stomach helpless.

"I wished it didn't come to this..." he sighed.

"Did you expect me to have dinner with you just like that? How stupid do you think I am?" I riposted.

"I expected you to be smarter than that." he muttered.

"Hey, let go of me! You're a clone and I'm a mistress, you should listen to me!" I yelled furiously.

"Guess what? We're switching roles for a change." he told me.

I heard a click I was familiar with, it was the sound of a gun being armed. That surly made me quiet. Dying wasn't in my plans for the next sixty years.

"OK, if this is the way you want it..." he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up.

"Ay!" I cried. "Could you not do this!" I complained.

He pulled my head backwards making my neck arch so bad that I thought it would snap.

"Let's go inside!" he ordered looking around for unwanted witnesses and pressed the gun against my rib cage on a side.

He pushed me forward and I stumbled but he didn't let go and painfully kept me up on my feet. Demetrius' pistol would have been quite handy at that point.

"I'm moving, I'm moving, stop pushing me!" I muttered and glared at him as he locked the door behind us.

He didn't seem to hear me so to catch his attention I planted my heel on his foot, and I didn't do it gently.

"Fuck!" he yelled and threw me into the nearest wall.

Playing the part of a bouncing ball didn't suit me. I leaned against the wall for a second waiting for the initial wave of pain to pass. OK, so one large bruise on the left shoulder, a more superficial one on the side of my head, and several others in the places where he had grabbed me, I counted in my mind. This clone would have a lot of sins to pay for in the afterwards life.

The kitchen counter was right behind me, actually its corner had plunged into my middle back during the fall, and I turned and propped my hands on the edge lowering my head. Disparate kitchen utensils were laying there, the ones that Pete had used to prepare dinner for sure because that wasn't the regular place where we put them. It was a high risk choice and the chances to success were very low but anger took over the reason for a moment and my hand clutched onto the handle of a knife.

I waited for him to get closer and turning slowly I took my shot at him... and missed. I did cut him, and blood burst out, but it wasn't nearly deep enough to hold him down. Oops, that was going to piss him off.

Pete ran his hand over his torso, looked at the blood that had covered it shaking his head and then wiped it on his pants.

"Can't we just act like civilized people?" he said instead.

"What do you suggest? Finish dinner and continue upstairs?" I said sarcastically.

"That would be nice." he seemed to like the idea.

"Have you completely lost it!" I stared at him.

He shrugged.

"Doesn't matter... too late to change anything... enough talking... let's finish it."

"No, wait!" I pleaded desperate to buy some more time. "Look... I... I... I promise to behave... just... just let me take care of the guys. I saw Santee and Demetrius and only God knows how Jack is so please... please let me take care of them first..." I begged "...I don't want them to die... please..." the tears were choking my voice.

"And then you'll do everything I want?" he considered my offer.

"Of course... I'll just imagine you're Jack." I snapped.

Slap! His hand almost threw my head off my shoulders. That one had been anticipated but damn it felt good to say it out loud.

"Bitch! You're gonna pay for this!"

Next thing I knew I was dragged on the floor all the way to the living room. He flipped over the table nicely set and dropped me in the middle of the room. Great, some more mess to clean up in the end. I should send his mistress the bill. No, poor girl had nothing to do with it, it was obvious that she couldn't control him, nobody could anymore. He needed major remodeling, maybe more than he could handle.

Pete went to the couch, flew all the pillows off to get to my purse that he had hidden in there, looked inside to find my cell phone and handed it to me.

"Call Jack." he ordered me. "Since you like him so much, we have to take care of him too." his smile turned evil.

Jack was free? My heart jumped filled with joy. At least one of them was gonna be spared.

"Call!" Pete repeated.

"Why? So you could hurt him? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Call..." his voice became dangerously low "...or you'll have to order a new Demetrius."

Was that a trap? I didn't doubt he would have killed him if he had to but the question was if it was worth put Jack into danger by calling him there to save Demetrius' life. Was there a life left to be saved? Was Demetrius still alive?

"You already killed him!" I accused him.

"No, I just shot him. You've seen it yourself when you went there. I've seen the towels." he narrowed his eyes at me. "Demetrius is not dead... yet."

"I don't believe you! He was very weak, he had lost a lot of blood... he could be dead by now." I argued.

"I've just been there. He is not!" he grunted.

"So maybe you just fixed it!" I replied. "I wanna see him with my own eyes. Then I'll call." I requested.

"Forget Demetrius!" Pete growled. "I'll just kill Santee then." he smirked.

"Santee is dead... he was dead when I got to the basement and took the keys from him." I whispered.

It wasn't hard at all to let the tears flow. It had to look believable so he wouldn't suspect it was a lie. That was no acting coming from me, I was beginning to lose faith in happy-endings, the future looked too dark to even hope.

"They're all dead..." I sobbed "...if you wanna kill me, just do it... I don't care."

"Oh, brother..." he rolled his eyes. "Come see your precious Demetrius... you're even more difficult than my mistress!" he grumbled.

I let him drag me to the bathroom where I instantly fell in my knees near Demetrius' motionless body. Pete hadn't lied, he wasn't dead... yet.

"Get more towels!" I asked.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." he grumbled but handed me a clean towel.

I did the best I could not caring that I was getting covered in blood myself this time too. He was barely breathing.

"Call an ambulance!" I yelled in panic.

"Nice try!" he grinned. "But don't push your luck." he warned me and pulled me away.

Once again back in the living room he pushed me down on my knees, the submissive position giving him a sense of power and control over the situation. I had spent a lot of time on my knees during the past hour. Well, he was in control anyway, he was the one with a gun. And that brings us to the present.

"Call!" he ordered giving me the phone for the second time.

All my guys had cell phones for emergency cases and had to carry them along when leaving the house. Imagine my surprise when I heard the Vincero aria from Turandot coming from somewhere inside the house. Like any respectable gangster Jack loved opera so having it chosen as ringtone for his cell could be considered unusual but not surprising. The sound, even toned down, was coming from somewhere close.

"He doesn't answer..." I said turning to Pete. "He forgot his phone at home, can't you hear it ringing?" I raised my voice.

"Oh, really?" he frowned and took the phone to his ear.

I didn't quite believe it myself. Jack to forget his phone? Maybe only if he had done it on purpose but why would he had done that?

"See?" I looked up at Pete expectantly.

"Well, then I'm very sorry for you." he shook his head. "You just lost an extra hour of your life." he declared. "My darling, it's time to say good-bye…" he said raising his gun towards me.

So that was it, not a pleasant way to die after having lived not nearly enough. Pleading, begging, crawling on my knees, I thought about all that, but it seemed pointless. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. I lifted up my chin and looked him straight in the eyes. Incidentally my sight flew over him and I saw Jack standing in the doorway, gun ready to shoot.

"Goodbye…" I said and grinned evilly when I shouldn't have.

Pete turned in a flash and they fired in the same time. They both got shot but in the end only one of them was still standing.

"Oh, my God..." I gasped and ran into Jack's arms.

"It's alright, it's over." he told me hugging me tight.

"We must call the police and an ambulance! Santee and Demetrius are badly hurt." I cried.

"They're on their way. Delia called them." he told me. "She saw Pete dragging you back into the house and thought it was me so a few minutes later when she saw me passing by her house heading home she figured out something was wrong. First she stopped me to lecture me about how to treat women and then when she discovered I was innocent she went to call the cops."

"Good... so having such a nosy neighbor turned out to be in our best advantage." I muttered.

"Yes, it's good to have her living up on the hill and getting bored there. And she's a great cook!" he chuckled.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head on his shoulder. It felt so good to stay there, safe, finally.

"Is he... dead?" I muffled with my face hidden in his chest.

"Does it matter?" he smiled down at me.

"Well, to be honest I don't know how I would explain to the police the presence of a dead clone in my living room..." I frowned hearing sirens from both police cars and ambulance coming from outside.

"After this... I'm sure you can handle it." Jack grinned.

THE END


End file.
